


Should Have Gone with the Guinea Pig

by Shannon_Kind



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 22:11:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13490838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shannon_Kind/pseuds/Shannon_Kind
Summary: Adjusting to life in the bunker is hard, especially as Cas realizes that he's going to have to deal with his mental health the same was as humans do--and no amount of human pills will work on an angel.What he needs, is a pet.





	Should Have Gone with the Guinea Pig

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is rated “C” for Crack.
> 
> Some material may be considered too irrational for sensitive readers.
> 
> Reader discretion is advised.

“I would like a guinea pig.”

The statement came out of nowhere, delivered as flat and solid as only Castiel could manage. It was a statement of what *would* happen, not merely what he hoped would happen.

Sam took one look at the storm on Dean’s face and gathered up his sandwich to finish in his bedroom—there had to be something worth binge watching on Netflix.

With great effort, Dean schooled his face into something more soothing. “We can’t get a pet, Cas.”

The angel set a laptop on the kitchen table with the utmost care, turning it to face Dean. “It says on the Internet that pets can play an important role in helping people to overcome depression. We’ve talked about this. There’s no precedence for depressed angels, and I’m immune to most human drugs.” Sure enough, the web page was lauding the benefits of cats, dogs, and even fish for people overcoming depression. “I would like a guinea pig.”

“Damn it, Cas. We’re not getting a guinea pig! They’re tiny, they eat all the time. If it gets out while we’re on a hunt? We’ll never find it in this place. And how the hell is it going to eat when we’re sometimes gone for weeks at a time?”

Castiel closed the computer and walked away. Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He knew the conversation wasn’t over, but at least he could finish his lunch in peace.

———

It was a week later when Castiel brought it up again. “We could get a cat.”

“What?” Sam asked, completely perplexed. Cas knew what he was doing, if he could enlist Sam’s help, he might make some headway with getting a pet. After all, hadn’t Sam always wanted a dog?

“Cats are self-sufficient hunters. We could leave for weeks at a time, just make sure there are a few mice left for her to hunt while we’re gone.”

“Do you really think Dean will put up with mouse poop all over the bunker?”

“Then we could let it out if we need to leave. If we feed it regularly, it will return when we do.”

“NO CATS, CAS!” Dean shouted from the next room. How the hell had he even heard them?

“Dean, you’re being highly unreasonable.”

“This is really important to you, isn’t it?” Sam asked. The look he got back was so open, lost, and innocent, Cas must have been practicing it in a mirror. “I’ll talk to Dean. But how about a bird? You know what it’s like to have wings, maybe it’s the best fit?”

“A bird? I’ll think about it.”

———

The next several weeks, Sam saw several interesting notes throughout the bunker, stuck on post-its in the most unlikely places, including the shower.

“Emperor penguins eat only 14 meals per year. That sounds ideal.” -C  
“Penguins can’t live in the middle of Kansas.” -D

Or

“African gray parrots are remarkably smart and can live for several years. They can learn and understand the same amount of speech as a three year old child!” -C  
“I ain’t getting told off by a damn bird, bird-brain!” -D

Or

“Falcons are fantastic hunters.” -C  
“The only species eating meat in this place is US” -D  
“That’s rude.” -C  
“You don’t eat, you can’t taste it, get over it.” -D

And finally

“Just get a parakeet or something. I can’t keep this up. Make sure it’s fed and clean.” -D

They were leaving to see Jody and the ladies for a few days—not so much a hunt as a family gathering. Cas had declined, citing that having someone who looked remarkably like her father at their “family gathering” might be detrimental to Claire’s mental health.

———

Sam is still coming down the stairs into the bunker while Dean is setting his bag on the table. A strange low growling and squawking came from the doorway. Sam couldn’t see what the hell was making the noise, but Dean did, and his eyes went wide. “Dude, what the hell?”

Seven foot of angry, black-beaked rage with eyes the size of pool balls came running toward Dean.

“Oh my god, is that an ostrich?” Sam asked, watching as Dean dodged around the table.

“He’s just protecting his territory, Dean. He’ll get used to you in time,” Cas said calmly from the doorway to the library. “Be careful, he’s prone to kicking.” 

Dean managed to get behind the angel. “Son of a bitch,” he panted. “When I said get a bird, this is not what I meant.”

The bird slowed to a halt next to Cas, still watching Dean with a wary, beady eye. “This is Truman, Dean. I’ve felt marked improvement since he became a part of my life.” He ran a hand absently over the the bird’s large head.

“What the fuck?” Dean asked, exasperated.

Sam was collapsed against the railing at the top of the stairs. He was laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes. “Guinea pig doesn’t some like such a bad idea now, does it?”

**Author's Note:**

> [Truman's angry sound](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h7jC4hHHSQk)
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry about the lack of a beta. I haven't posted in forever--this seemed easy enough to get my toes wet again.


End file.
